The Girl Of Black and White
by growingCataclysm
Summary: Kotoura Sorani is a beautiful girl of only age 14. She lives on poor rice patty in Japan. But how will she deal when she's uprooted and brought to Cleveland, Ohio, because of her parents cooking skills? Wills she adapt? Or will she forever be a stranger in an unfamiliar, foreign world?


1: 'Amerika' is 'rice' or 'rice paddy' in Japanese, according to Google.

Prue C. 1.

Kotoura Deku Sorani

January 14-17, 2011. _-Japan_

Before, I live on rice paddy in Japan with little sister, Yui, mother, Asuna, and father, Kirito. We grow rice and are happy with our paltry sum. But then, while father is in town, buying breads, he sees poster. 'Jobs in America! Work in authentic Japanese restaurant chain!' Father brought home poster. Mother see, say,

"That is the great idea!"

She applies and got last job in 'Cleveland, Ohio.' and before you could say ' _Kirai'_ , we are off to somewhere else. And my rice come with me, as our little spot of brown fade into distance, then Mt. Fuji, then the last corner of my beloved home. Before I know it, Japan is gone and all I have left is packet of rice and high school uniform. We are off to 'Amerika' and not looking back. I wonder how much rice was there, with a name like that…. 1

January 21, 2011. _–Cleveland, Ohio, America_

I am allowed to skip some grades because of smarts, and am in high school. English confuses me, and I do not know much of it. But once, while I am coming out of math class, I happen to see Mexican girl walk by. I walk up to her and tap her shoulder.

" _Konnichiwa (hello)!_ My name is Kotoura!" I blurt. Uh ohs. That comes out wrong. _'Wrong language.'_ I think. My face heat up, making my tan skin seem red on my face. My blue eyes shrink to a dot.

"Hm? Oh. Hello, my name's Maricela," She says, sounding bored.

"H-hello, Maricela-senpai." I reply, carefully choosing honorific. She seem weird from my choice of honorific. Should I have chosen _'San'_ instead?

"No, it's just Maricela." She replies. I have to explain.

"No. In Japan, to call one by their name without honorific is very insulting. You are my senior. I call you 'Senpai.' You just met me. You call me either 'Kotoura-san', my first name, or 'Sorami-san', my last name." I explain, some heat leaving. I shift my books to other hand and wait.

"We'll, I'll see you around, Kotoura- _san_." Maricela reply. She walk away. I hold my long, glossy black hair in hand. It has white highlights from dye, and looks pretty. I smile biggest smile. I has new friend!

January 22, 2011-June 22, 2011. _–Cleveland, Ohio_

Maricela and I become good friends. I am tease often, many different times, and many different things. But Senpai always stands up for me. She teaches me the proper names of things and helps me with English. Slowly, my life becomes better. But she is absent from May to end of year. I am worried. I go on walk. I go down Gibb Street during record-breaking heat wave. Temperatures up to nearly 40°C. 90°F is a lot, says Google. Last all summer, says Weatherman. Good temperatures for rice, says me. Too bad no place to grow.

 _14:45 (2:45 PM)_

Then I smell plants. Why do I smell plants? I break into run. My sandals slap across ground, _slap, slap, slap, clap, clap, clap._ Turn corner. _Slap, slap, slap._ Stop, turn, skid, look. Explosion of green, purple, red, colors. Blink once, twice, look at glowing splendor. We have nothing like this at home. Only brown from mud and orange from durian. Green and white from rice. Walk inside, _slap… slap…_ trapped by daze as slap turn into squish. I see Senpai, out of corner of my eye. I ignore her, and walk to back of garden. I feel dizzy, like I'm about to faint and fade away. I see nice spot, completely in sun. As though in a daze, I take purse and take out water bottle and mirror. I pour out my water bottle, onto the plot. It is mine for rice growing. I take mirror, and position it in soggy dirt to have reflected the sun onto the plot. I take out rice packet, and rip it open. I drop some seeds in, and hope they grow. I went around garden. I ask if anyone needs help. Someone does. He says,

"My lettuce! My lettuce is wilting! Please help me grow my lettuce, I need the money!" I agree to promise, and show him growing techniques. I water the lettuce, and poke holes in nearby tarp. I put sticks underneath, and put it over plot. He thanks me, and gives me a quarter. I give more people help. Soon, nearly 123 yen worth of American money jingling in my pocket. And there are only four coins! The internet helped me with this.

July 1, 2011, _-Cleveland, Ohio_

I always help out in the garden. Soon, I am practically rich. There is nearly 3085 yen in American money on my nightstand. Google is very helpful. But every day, I grew more and more hateful of Maricela. She has abandoned me. Scorn has filled my heart, and I don't understand why she left me. Every day, the sky got darker. Today the sky is darkest. Then, _plop. Plop. Plop. Plop._ Rain is pouring on my face. Everyone grabs umbrellas, and whatever they can hold, and starts to run away from the thunderstorm. In the process, I am kicked down, and shoved without mercy. Someone stomped on my back. Someone kicked on my foot. My rice goes flying into the ground. I curl up and watch as plants are destroyed by stomping feet. I curl up with umbrella. The storm truly starts as I leave. The rain makes it hard to see, like walls of thundering chaos. Soon, I find myself on the other side of town, far away from home, in front of Maricela's house. I shake myself off, and knock on her door. _Knock, knock, knock._ She opens the door. I am a wreck, shivering and shaking, soaking wet.

" _K-konnichiwa_ , Maricela-senpai." I say with a joking smile, hinting at times past. I hold up lunch that I brought from home. "Rice?" She smile, and invite me in. I take a shower, and change into one of Maricela's old T-shirts, plus a pair of shorts. We joke, laugh, and share rice. Then the storm stops. We smile and run out side. We go to the garden and stop. The garden is washed out and in shambles. There are fences and plants everywhere, along with over two kilos of pure mud. My eyes widen, and my voice shakes. I am trembling from the cold and pure shocked fear. I run into the mud, looking for my seeds. _Sploosh, splish, splash. Slop, flop, slop._ Mud goes flying as I sift through the silt. I only found one seed. It was rotten beyond compare. My heart breaks and tears fill my eyes. All of my rice was gone. My only livelihood, gone. I start to cry. My uniform is soaked and muddy. Stains will never properly come out. My rice was gone. All traces of Japan, except for me and my parents, are gone. My English may be almost perfect, but I'm not. My heart is shattered, and my past is gone. Tears stream down my face, and plop down into the mud below, adding salt to the water. I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry, we can fix this." I look up at the voice, seeing Maricela's face looking up at me. I nod a little. "We'll fix up the garden." I see a wistful sadness in her eyes. That's right. She planted here too. I nod, remembering how her garden on the other side drove us apart, the distance of about a kilometer seeming many more in my mind, jealousy swelling my judgement.

"Alright… I'll try." I say softly. I grab a shovel and a rake from home. Maricela grabs some bowls and soil. I've decided. We're going to clean out this garden. We're going to use our new friendship to fix nature's mistake.


End file.
